O Worshipper of the Books of Knowledge

O Worshipper of the books of Knowledge!
If only you could see us,
you would know that with your knowledge you are merely playing.
For every page of your book that you turn,
We turn, in its place, a page in the chapter of history.

Whoever fatigues his body in pursuit of theoretical knowledge,
Let him know that our bodies are fatigued by the weight of our shackles.
For every ruling of fiqh that you uncover,
Our enemies uncover our modesty and shame.

Do you preach to others the categories of tawheed,
When your own lives have barely suffered for it?
Do your eyes shed tears in your lectures,
Whilst the eyes of our families weep at our absence?
Whoever is pursued by those who seek his opinion,
Let him know that we are pursued by those who bind our hands.
For every drop of ink that leaves your pen,
A drop of our blood from torture leaves our bodies

Does your eloquent speech find no words for us,
When we are the victims of your silence?
Are you still hesitating to take this trust as its bearer,
When every hour passes us by as it is an era?

Whoever of you fears the blame of the blamer,
And whoever of you fears the sword of the oppressor,
Then know that the death of the brave does not come sooner,
And nor is the death of the coward delayed until later.

Do you seek the inheritance of the prophets,
When you refuse to follow in their footsteps?
Then know claim to emulate the predecessors,
When you refuse to pay the price that they paid?

Whoever of you prefers this life to the hereafter,
Then fear the trial of knowledge more than the trial of women.
For while your theories roam with the stars,
We are like lions, caged behind bars.

Let us remind you of one last thing whilst we still live:
The ink of the scholars is not holier than the blood of the captive.
For Allah spoke the Truth, to Him be Honour:
“It is he who fears Allah who is the true scholar.”*